Feathers Among Blood
by daisyinafield
Summary: "Why are you even surprised, Luce? Cam doesn't deserve a love story. Only Daniel has that privilege." There was bitterness in her tone. - "Entrance into Heaven?" She murmured, "Answer me, Cam! If Luce is the entrance to Heaven, what does that make me?"


**Feathers Among Blood**

Summary: What if Lucinda Price wasn't the only mortal who could see the shadows? What if their paths met and they became good friends? What if this new mortal, wasn't supposed to be here? If she was intruding on Luce's cycles, giving hints to certain demons that this cycle was destined to be the last? What if Nazar Wilson is not just an orphan mortal with mental problems? What if she is the other side to the coin that is Lucinda Price?

Warnings: Rating may move to M. Spoilers bound for Fallen, Torment and probably Passion when it comes out. Updates will be sketchy.

Chapter 1

Nazar Wilson was pissed off. Not at anyone in particular, but not exactly at everyone either. There were a lot of reasons she was pissed off and, frankly, she felt she had a right to be. Nothing could seem to go right in her life and this never helped her mood. From the day she was found in a trolly at the supermarket and named 'Nazar' (a name allocated to countries that were not England and consequently to little _boys_ who certainly were not _white_) by the imbecile they allowed to name her, it was glaringly obvious to Nazar that she was destined to fail on this planet. Of course whenever she had tried to bring this up in the past with her therapist - a slightly plump lady in her early thirties who Nazar always suspected had been victim to at least one mental breakdown - she kindly, if patronising, reminded her she was nearly of age to change her name herself and that she could make out of her life whatever she wanted.

The home had skipped her from therapist to therapist, none making more of an impact than the last, until she was in the halfway house, fifteen going on sixteen in less than six months (this was slightly early to be moved to a halfway house, but Nazar had insisted) and finally found a therapist who seemed to know what was up.

He was from America, Nazar and the home had long since exhausted all the decent government employed therapists in England and had received a very, very small grant to look abroad for the _best _they could find. Apparently, this guy had seen one other patient who suffered nearly identical symptoms to Nazar and he'd cured her. She remembered the day he'd told the carer this over video link and laughed raucously when she raised an eyebrow in pure disbelief.

Over the next few months, this man and Nazar waited for the past-patient to reply to a message he'd left for her parents and slowly they arranged for Nazar to meet this girl.

Night after night Nazar lay in her bunk bed scowling at the tiny bud of hope she could feel growing inside her. Hope was a dangerous emotion, she knew that much. Living in a home all her life and being rejected so many times by potential parents because she scared them did that to her.

The worst case ever was when she was five, young enough to be one of the first kids potential parents would look at. She stood in the doorway smiling, the carer had dressed her up all nice in a red polka dot dress and she enjoyed standing on one spot and twirling so she could watch the dress balloon out.

"Nazar," The carer said, stopping her by her shoulders. "This is Mr and Mrs Hall, say hello." Nazar turned to face them with a glorious smile on her face - she had reason to after eavesdropping on the carers the night before to hear them say she had a massive chance of being adopted by this couple because they were psychiatrists, obviously at the time she didn't understand the profession but she was happy enough with what she got. The second she turned and her eyes met the Hall's, however, their faces distorted momentarily before regaining composure. Nazar knew what that meant, she knew disgust even if she was only five and her eyes watered slightly in response.

"Er... Is, is she blind?" Mrs Hall's voice was too high. Mr Hall looked disappointed, he spoke over whatever the carer was about to explain,

"Ma'am, listen, we overlooked the fact she wasn't the boy we so desperately wanted but we can hardly overlook the fact she looks like..." He waved his arm at Nazar in a cruel manner to make up for his loss of words. "Like this. You understand, right?" Her carer looked angry, but Nazar was terrified. She was leaving with these people, she had to; they wanted her.

"Wait, wait here!" She insisted. "Promise, three minutes, promise." Her speech was far from intelligent, but capable give or take a few phonetics she lisped quite badly on.

"Okay, dear, we promise we'll wait." Mrs Hall answered, but before she'd even finished Nazar was running up the stairs. She tore the dress in her haste to get it off and pulled on her pair of play jeans, muddy with several rips, and her most boyish t-shirt (it had transformers on the front.) She stumbled on her way to the bathroom; her jeans weren't pulled up properly but she didn't have time so she clutched the waistband with one hand instead. She stood on the stool in the bathroom with scissors in hand, glaring at her waist-length blonde hair. She loved her hair but she loved the idea of having her own parents more, so she took the scissors to her high ponytail and just _snipped_ above the bobble. She didn't have time to see how she looked, she ran down the stairs nearly tripping several times on the way. Her carer, the Halls and the kids that would tease her mercilessly about this later all stared on gobsmacked as she stood there gasping for breath.

Finally, the five year old got out, "I'm a boy now. You want me now, right?" The kids all started laughing - a reflexive response - and wouldn't stop despite the carer's attempts. Mr and Mrs Hall looked at her sadly before Mr Hall ever so slowly shook his head and little Nazar couldn't help but cry. She ran to her room and cried the rest of the day away, not entirely aware at the time of how much it would haunt her as she grew.

By eight she had promised never to try and change herself for anyone ever again and by eleven she had promised herself never to let herself hope.

But here she was, standing at the airport in _America_ and she grinned stupidly, waiting for this therapist to pick her up and drive her to meet Lucinda Price and her parents in Georgia. She would be staying with them for the school holidays and hopefully learning how to stop seeing the shapes that had been stalking her longer than she could remember.

The trip didn't turn out like she thought it would though. Luce was incredibly cool and awoke some urge in Nazar to protect her from all the horrid people she told her about at Dover. Luce and Nazar grew close, really close, and Luce told Nazar in secret that she had never stopped seeing the shapes. She had just told everyone she had to avoid antipsychotics. The girls also found out that the shadows Luce saw weren't always the shapes Nazar saw, neither girl knew what that meant. Maybe they were just crazy. This knowledge broke Nazar's heart but maybe if she had Luce as a friend out of all this it would be worth it. They spent the whole of what to the Americans was Spring Break (but was aligned roughly with Easter break for Nazar) together, laughing and bonding. Sometimes Luce's "friends" weren't exactly pleasant, especially on hearing her name for the first time,

"Nazar? But that's an Asian boys name." Particularly nasty girls would sneer, but Nazar just laughed in their faces and told them racial stereotyping was one step from racism and they shut up. Nazar had learnt a long time ago that her name was more hassle than it was worth and instead have everyone call her Nat, which they assumed was short for Natalie. She wasn't going to correct them. Her almost-strange appearance had become somewhat a hit as she had grown into it and throughout those holidays both Luce and Nat were asked to numerous beach parties which they always declined. The shapes liked crawling out of shadows and bonfires at beach parties always caused a lot of shadows.

The time came for Nat to go home, now claiming she was 'fully cured' on advice from Luce and the two girls had an almost tearful farewell at the airport but Nat hadn't cried in front of people since she was five and had no intention of starting now.

The next few months dragged, they were boring and everything seemed so much less fun without Luce. The girls still chatted over the Internet, but one of the guys in the home would frequently interrupt and forcibly remove Nazar from the computer if she didn't comply, so their time was limited. Drawing closer to the summer, however, Luce became withdrawn on chat, didn't contact Nazar as much as they were used to. Sometimes Nat though she saw a twinkle of excitement in the girl's eye but eventually she brushed it all off as Luce moving on. She should too.

Before she had chance to, though, her carer called her into her office for a talk. He was beaming.

"Well?" Nat snapped, knowing she had to be at school soon and had Maths homework she hadn't touched.

"You've been adopted." He answered. Nat stared in shock, unable to ask any questions. "We're sorry it took so long and we would've told you sooner but we didn't want to get your hopes up in case our appeal was turned down. We had to go pretty high up to get them to okay this, Nat, but the Prices were adamant they wanted you to live with them. In the end we had to get you emancipated from the state and then go the long, expensive way about filling out a visa for America. If you stay there for three years under the Price's indirect care, they have already said they'll get you an American citizenship. You leave at the end of the week!" Nat had dropped her bag and flung her arms round him in pure joy before running up the stairs and getting online to an equally excited Luce who had stayed up late just to talk to her.

So Nat moved in with the Prices, after thanking them repeatedly and profusely. She managed to scrape a half-scholarship to Dover with Luce and the Price's insisted they didn't mind paying for her to go.

Everything was brilliant; the best Nat had ever had it. And then there was the incident with Trevor. Seeing Luce in such pain made Nazar feel awful. She hadn't been there because she'd been playfully flirting with a guy. She should've been there to protect Luce from the shadows. She knew she should've and the guilt would've consumed her if she let it. Of course she didn't let it.

And now? Now Luce was going to some reform school away from where Nazar could make sure she was safe and okay. Luce hated her protectiveness, but the piles upon piles of hate mail; the spitting and shouting in the street; the way some people would be friendly only to humiliate her later really upped Nazar's urge to make sure Luce was okay. People had tried bullying Nazar about it, but she laughed it off, outsmarted them or threatened to break their face. She'd grown up in a notoriously bad care home, enough said.

So this was why Nazar Wilson was pissed off as she sat on the fountain by the mall. Luce wasn't going to some reform school alone, no way. With an angry sigh directed at the Gods, Nazar stood up and strode indoors.

After very conspicuously shoplifting from just about every store there, she ran into one of the girls that had made Luce's life a nightmare. A girl she _knew_ had been sending Luce hate mail for something that was the shapes fault. A girl who sneered at Nazar as she passed by, sealing her own fate. Nazar laughed slightly manically, seeing a shape hovering by the main exit doors. More shapes appeared, making her slightly nervous and killing her laugh. They crowded round Nazar and this girl, making noises that sounded just like the wind. The girl made a snide comment Nazar didn't register, but that was it, shaking her shoulders out once to get rid of some of the shapes, she pulled her fist back and connected it smoothly with the girls face. The shapes scattered but Nazar didn't stop hitting the girl, a madness and bloodlust overtaking her senses. She straddled her waist and beat down on her face, shoulders, neck, torso, anywhere she could reach with harsh punches. She felt like she was going mad, like she might kill this girl if someone didn't stop her, but the whole thing felt so damn good. She couldn't stop.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nazar noted a particularly large shape hovering on the floor nearby. It had a malicious air about it and Nazar knew immediately that it was taunting her.


End file.
